Exploring new places is always fun. But doing it with someone who knows the area well is doubly so, because you get to see the best that the place has to offer. Rumney is too far from Cleveland to visit for just a weekend, and I have been saving it for a longer trip. It finally happened this summer, and thanks to jakedatc and dr_feelgood (Jake and Doc from now on) it is a trip I will remember fondly. And you get to hear about it! An obligatory photo to start… Could this be the most-photographed sign ever?

Sunday’s SundryAugust 15th dawned dark and gloomy in Northeast Pennsylvania. I went online to check the weather and to find out when Jake was planning on getting to Rumney. He mentioned that he was baking a peach cobbler to bring along. Fresh-baked peach cobbler for camping food? The gloomy day suddenly got a lot brighter...

Sunday afternoon I packed my car in pouring rain, and drove for 7.5 hours, getting stuck in every traffic jam, and playing race-the-rain-front. We met up in the shopping center parking lot, our hangout for the night. The evening got progressively colder—as I threw on a long sleeved shirt and tried to curl up into a progressively smaller ball on Jake’s tailgate, I reminded myself that it was a good sign. The rain did catch up with us — but Jake confidently predicted that climbing would be O.K. the next day, and we went to sleep.

Monday MoaningFirst thing I saw upon waking up were the big fat raindrops on my windshield. It wasn’t raining anymore—not precisely. It doesn’t really rain inside the cloud, but it doesn’t get dry there, either. And it didn’t look like the mist was going anywhere. We were getting fully hydrated just by breathing. Nevertheless, we drove to Rumney Rocks, and ate breakfast on the tailgate. “Ready to go climbing?” asks Jake. “You think there is anything dry to climb?” “Sure,” he says, “there will be dry rock!”

I should mention that at this point ours were the only two cars in the parking lot. Obviously, no one else thought so… But I grabbed my backpack anyway, figuring that at the very least it would be a hike to look around. Camera was left sitting comfortably in my car, of course!

First thing I discover about Rumney is that climbing there means a lot of hiking—and all of it going UP. And up, and up…Our destination is Main Cliff. And Jake turns out to be trustworthy guide, because there is indeed climbable rock to be had. My first route at Rumney: Son of Sammy, 5.8. I come down thinking two things: 1) the rock is SHARP! 2) the holds are facing the wrong way!

I pretty much could have stopped right there, after one route, and I would have gotten the correct impression of Rumney. But we don’t stop there, of course! Jake hangs the draws on Couch Potato (5.9) and I clean it. Then it is my turn again. Debbie does CPR, 5.11a. The rain picks up in earnest, but we are not getting wet at all. Jake helpfully offers to stick clip the first bolt “in case I don’t like damp sloppers” (are there people who do?!?!), and up I go bravely—to get stuck puling the roof. The beta isn’t hard to figure out: put your toes to your nose, and match the gaston. I get that right on the second try, examine the rock rash on my forearms, and decide that lunch is in order.

Then we walk to Orange Crush wall and I get to try Orangahang, 5.12a. Ugh! Let’s just say that the attempt is aborted and filed in “to be tried again when my bionicle arms grow a few inches” pile.

Doc finally shows up, and we meet up at lower Darth Vader wall. Did I mention that Rumney means walking? Next dry choice: Obi-Won Ryobi. Really fun! Thought in the back of my mind as I pull the roof: This is a freaking 5.9? Really? It is HARD!!!!

More walking. We look at Upper Vader crag. It’s wet. But someone left a quickdraw on Three Easy Pieces. Doc expertly onsights the stick-clip QD retrieval, and we break up the booty—Jake gets the straight-gate, I get the bent-gate, Doc gets the thank-you’s, and off we go, walking again—this time to Bonsai crag. Two dry-ish routes there, Masterpiece, 5.10a, and War and Peace, 5.9. Doc makes up for the late start by hanging the draws for me, and Jake cleans both routes. I am beginning to think that I really can go for the whole week without hanging quickdraws on anything, or cleaning any routes, either... I like the idea!

Meanwhile, it is time to end the day—right? Doc seems to think so… but not Jake. Let’s go to the Meadows! It stopped raining couple hours ago… so we climb Med Dose Madness, 5.10b, and Jeff loudly proclaims his hatred of crimps. Ever since the failed epic attempt on the life of an innocent avocado (the event that was widely discussed in the climbing community), Doc and crimps don’t like each other.

We finish the day by jumping in the river—at least Doc and I do. Jake and cold water get along about as well as Doc and crimps, so he just dips his toes—very carefully. Campsite gourmet dinner is as awesome as it gets—and peach cobbler is the crowning glory. Good night!

We remember to bring the cameras this time. But bringing the cameras along doesn’t mean that we give any thought to how we would actually LOOK on camera. We all end up with some sort of green outfits. Jake and I are the worst. At least Doc’s shirt is dark-green… As Doc puts it, after looking at the photos at the end of the day:”You know, Lena, I don’t want to be THAT guy (girls know: nothing good would ever follow a preface like that!), but this pale-green top, with pale rock and leaves in the background makes you look really anemic.” Lovely!

Still, here we are in all our anemic glory.

Starship enterprise wall, Yer Anus, 5.9. Lesson number 1: just because it is a warm-up, doesn’t mean that you turn off your brain! I climbed myself into position 1, and transitioning to position 2 took a lot of ungraceful effort, well-documented by Doc in many butt shots...

Doc patiently hangs in his harness, to take more pictures. One size fits all, 5.11b. Finished with the supposed crux of the route… Right about now I am asking Doc: “What’s up there?” “Oh”, he says helpfully, “it’s a very good spot to crawl in and die…” Lesson number 2 (if you want smart-ass beta, Doc is you man!) is followed very quickly by lesson number 3: one size DEFINITELY doesn’t fit all.

After successfully getting through the crawl-in-and-die chimney and couple casual clips, I am at the very last bolt. Good hands, good feet, I can hang for a while out here… followed by blank face, and the next hold on the arête, about 2 inches out of my reach. I stretch. And stretch. It doesn’t happen. I move left around the arête. Shit, this side is covered with moss, and it would be a bad fall. I move back right and try to stretch again. Nope, I didn’t grow. Move left again. Shit-shit-shit, I’m stupid-stupid-stupid. Move right. Move left. Move right. Move left. I could ask for a take, but I am so close… O.K. move left, Mossy face it is. Careful, step up, I am not going to fall, one more step, move back around the arête, here are the anchors! Guidebook says that the crux was at the bottom, so I am calling it a flash, and anyone who disagrees can cut off a few inches and then make that move on the mossy face—or try to reach on the arête. The roofy start of the route was in fact very enjoyable…

Lesson number 4: taking photos is HARD. I hang in Space, 5.9: Why isn’t he looking up? Come on, Doc, look up! Wait, now, his head is under the roof! Why is the camera freezing up when I need it to work? My leg is cramping. How do I get my foot out of the way without spinning in the air?

Moving on to Triple Corners Wall. Amore Eel, 5.10b. Doc is still taking pictures. Jake is hanging the draws—a true gentleman, he even points out good hidden holds and helpful beta. But for some reason the moves never look all that long when Jake does them… Lesson 5: When Jake suggests something, I need to do something else entirely.

Doc and Jake confer and decide that if I liked the roofy crux of One Size Fits All, I would enjoy a Man with the Hueco In His Tights, 5.11a/b. Not so sure about the actual real-live man with a hueco, but the route is indeed very enjoyable. But 5.11? No it isn’t—in fact, it might very well be the easiest route I climbed all day! Lesson 6—grades are weird! (should have learned that years ago)

It’s afternoon, and I am starting to feel tired. “Let’s go to Hinterlands now,” says Jake brightly. “Hinterland” is supposed to be “the land behind” (something). Nobody ever mentioned hinterlands being UP. Very high UP. We put on backpacks, and start climbing the approach “trail”. I huff, I puff, I whine. If I liked climbing with my pack on, I would be doing alpine climbing and mountaineering! Why did I agree to carry the rope? Could I dump the water now? I try to joke, but my jokes sound whiny, too. Doc and Jake patiently wait for me to catch up, while talking about how many hundreds of miles they have put on their bikes so far this year. Is that a hint?

We are finally there. Helmets come out of the packs. The guidebook warns of loose rock high up, and plenty of broken off rock pieces on the ground reinforce the warning very effectively. As usual, someone is hanging the draws, and that is not me. Doc leads Dolt, 5.10a in the guidebook, probably 5.9 in truth. It is very long, at least double, if not triple the length of anything else we had done so far. The thin fin of rock at the top looks spectacular… I really wanted to like this route. But I don’t. It looks better than it climbs—an opposite of most routes at Rumney. I am so disappointed that I don’t even want to climb Jolt, another 5.10a on the other side of the fin that supposed to be a “partner” route, similar to Dolt.

In fact, I am feeling done already. It is hot, and I have a dehydration headache despite drinking plenty of water. The only thing I want to climb is the warm rock by the swimming hole… but not so fast! We are going to check out the Prudential crag first. Doc shares some of his Gatorade-like something that tastes bad, looks like old piss, and cures my headache in about 20 minutes. Lesson number 7: I guess I really need some electrolytes! More climbing of the approach trail—and we get to a lovely-looking rock face. Very lovely... But none of us has any energy left to climb it… And the thought of making the approach climb again the next day is not exactly appealing.

We don’t go back the way we came—we take a different trail. “Trail” is a relative term. The hike back down is very well suited for mountain goats. It is also long enough to contemplate the ramifications of breaking an ankle somewhere on the trail, and to say many thanks for the mellow approaches at the Red River Gorge.

The positive side to a hot day and finishing (relatively) early: it is warm enough to really enjoy swimming. Even Jake jumps in.

Wednesday Weakness. I get a promise that the day would be more mellow. No Hinterlands hike today! We start at the main cliff. Men in White Suites, a very mellow 5.9—then it is time for Armed, Dangerous, and off My Medication, a 5.10b that I feel an instant affinity for. Must be because of the name… The usual story—Doc hangs the draws. And I am very grateful to have them pre-hung! A weird hand-foot-match mantle gets me to the fun overhanging finish. Awesome! Photo credits go to Doc, again.

Then it is time to try something a bit harder. We hike to Bonsai crag, managing to squeeze in some trail work along the way. Doc’s management skills are obviously well- developed, and his weight keeps the branches from wiggling. Lunch break is a bonus!

Jake is offering to hang the draws on Social Outcast, a 5.12b at Bonsai crag. I get pre-hung draws, brushed key holds, and all the beta I want—all of which combined aren’t enough to make me climb it clean. I make it to the anchors though… it is doable. Just not right now. I don’t want to spend the rest of the trip working on only one route.(There, isn’t that a good phrasing, and a nice excuse for being weak?)

Right next to Social Outcast is another classic route, Peer Pressure, 5.10d. Doc hangs the first draw, and decides that he doesn’t want to do the route that invokes the crimp rage in him. Jake helpfully points out that the best way to clean this route would be on toprope, and he doesn’t really want to do it twice… I guess if I want to lead it, I am stuck hanging the draws! Probably good for me, too…

I should know by now that “classic” usually equals “stout”. I also should know better than to try and repeat the move that looks reachy for someone a foot taller than me (remember lessons from Tuesday?). But no, I attempt to do the same thing that Doc tried, and hang on the first bolt. After a couple of tries a key crimp is located, and the reachy move is conquered. But I hang again on an awkward flake at the top, and come down feeling pissed. I don’t want to do it again! To hell with it! I hate it! Jake proceeds to clean the route. When he is about half-way up, I change my mind. I WILL do it again, dammit. Please, Jake? Jake starts down-climbing and hanging the draws back, not a single word of complaint. Peer pressure goes down, my mood goes up, and Jake climbs it again to clean.

Up until that moment, we have been enjoying the complete solitude. It felt like no one else was on the entire mountain. But it wasn’t true, of course, a few climbers wander in, then a few more, and before I can blink every route at Bonsai is occupied. “Let’s go over to Darth Vader,” suggests Jake. But I want to do Centerpiece, another 5.10d at Bonsai. So we take a lunch break and wait in line—only one time in the whole week that we had done that! The wait was worth it!

Doc has to leave… we say good-byes, and Jake and I head to Waimea, a wall we had not visited yet. It is beautiful! Unlike the rest of Rumney rock, which looks rather plain, the Waimea looks like a beautiful frozen multicolored stone wave. And the climbers look… well, we know what good climbers look like, so let’s not waste words! We admire the view, and I climb Waimea, at 5.10d the easiest route at the crag, and well worth the walk. We decide to come back after a rest day to try Luau, a beautiful-looking 5.12.

As usual, Jake still has more energy than the Energizer Bunny, so we do a “cool-down” route, Yoda. (Why are 5.9s so hard here?). The route is fun, but the main reason why we did is was b/c Jake wanted to clean up the old rusty quicklinks at the anchors that were left behind when the new anchors were put in. He quickly discovers that the old quicklinks are rusted in place and won’t come out even with a wrench. He wows to return with bolt cutters next time.

Thursday—the “REST” day. “So,” I say casually on Wednesday evening, “what do people do at Rumney for a rest day?” “I dunno,” says Jake, “I never took a rest day.” We tried to take a rest day. We really did. First we replenished our supplies of paper towels, chocolate (the most important thing!) and bug repellent, and bought some local, organic veggies at a farmstand that I found. By the way, I would highly recommend it! The veggies were really fresh, they were harvested the same day, the selection was great. And the owner didn’t bat an eye when I wanted to buy, one tomato, one potato, 1 cucumber, 1 small squash, couple leaves of swiss chard, and 1 ( yes, one) leaf of kale.

Then we visited downtown Plymouth (a very crunchy place) to get some Dr. Bronner’s soap—and more chocolate. We probably could have spent a lot more time, and money, on the Main Street!

And then it was time for library, and a dose of internet. Rumney Library is open 3 days a week for couple hours at a time (Wed, Thurs Sat), and consists of 3 small rooms. But it comes with two computers and no time limit, free wireless internet if you bring your own laptop, and a very friendly librarian. All in all, it was a great way to kill a few hours, but when Jake said HI to me on Facebook from across the table I decided that we’ve had enough internet time.

Lunchtime was more elaborate than usual, as a nod to rest day. Fresh blueberries, cheese and crackers for me, with chocolate for dessert, of course, peanut butter banana sandwich for Jake.

Having the food dispatched, we look at each other, at a loss of what else to do to kill time. “Just a few easy routes? To stretch the fingers?” sais Jake, “You don’t have to climb”. O.K.! I go to get my pack. Jake calls a minute later:”Bring your shoes, just in case… you know…” You see where this is going already, right? I am already making a bargain with the devil in my mind: I won’t climb anything harder than 5.8. It would still count as a rest day!

The rest of the “rest” day goes like this: we hike to a crag. Jake points me to a big chimney that looks about as good as the approach trail to Hinterlands (see Tuesday). “It’s a 5.6(Café au lait)”, he says, “want an onsight?” Well, not really, I’ll do it, but… I point to the much-better-looking route on the left. “What’s that?” I ask. “Oh, it’s 5.10b, Juan Valdez,” says Jake, ”if you want, you could flash it and make Doc cry. Epoch, too!”

What would a reasonable sane person do? Stick to the rest day plan, of course, belay Jake on 5.6, and save the fingers… But ME? Everyone knows that I am infamous for my recklessness, impulsiveness, quick temper, and my love for kicking cute puppies and making grown men cry. So when Jake puts it that way, there really isn’t any choice at all. I climb the 5.6, and then opt for making Doc cry—and succeed... (disclaimer: Doc’s crying was not confirmed by an independent reliable witness. And no cute puppies were harmed in climbing this route)

The pattern continues. We climb a 5.7. I don’t remember anything about it b/c I am too distracted by a gumby belay lesson going on on 5.2 nearby. Jake leads me away before my fuse blows, and points out an unexceptional-looking 5.9. As a bonus, it is also busy b/c someone else is climbing it. “What’s this?” I ask, pointing to the cool-looking climb on the left with an overhanging white face finish. Oh, it’s 5.10b. Tricky finish. Crimpy and pumpy. “I’m doing it!” I say. Jake opens the guidebook to look up the number of draws. “Hmmm,” he says, “I guess it was upgraded to 5.10d”. About 5 grades harder than my plan for the rest day? Yep, I am already tied in and ready to go. The route is awesome, but my fingers loudly remind me that there was a reason for taking the rest day in the first place. I send and come down:”Probably shouldn’t have climbed that, huh? What is it called, anyway?” “Idiot’s Deluxe”, pronounces Jake. Aha, I knew it was a perfect route for me!

“Let’s do the 5.9 (Curly for President)”, says Jake. My fingers are REALLY crying on the crimps now. I come down and tell Jake that if I so much as mention climbing another route harder than 5.8 for the rest of the day, he has my permission to whack me, hard. “Sure,” says Jake, “how about this route, and then we’ll be done?” “What is it?” “Well,” says my limitless-energy guide, “it is a 5.10a, now, in the new guidebook .but it used to be 5.9, and it is really easy, I’ve done it barefoot.” I shake my head. I will stick to my plan.

But some irresistible force makes me point to the route next to it. “What about this one?” “5.12c, I think” says Jake. “I like how it looks,” I say, “seems easy until the roof.” Jake gives me a funny look and starts reaching for something. I remember my whacking request, and quickly add: ”I don’t mean to do it today… Maybe tomorrow?” We have been “actively resting” for about 2.5 hours, and have 5 pitches each to show for it. A sane part of my mind kicks in briefly and we hike away from the crag. Fast.

The weather is gorgeous. The week has been very nice since Tuesday, but today it is supposed to be in mid 70s. Perfect. We start the day at a brisk pace. Continuing with the making Doc cry plan: Hippos on parade, 5.9—flash; Another 5.9, Lies and Propaganda-flash. The tears are supposedly coming in two huge rivers by now… 5.10a next, Reposession, the one that Jake tried to sell to me yesterday as an easy barefoot send. Hah, don’t believe him! It is HARD. I barely clip the anchors from a low hold, hugely grateful for pre-hung draws. Flash? Yeah, but not the one to be proud of. Then Jake points out the key crimp that he uses. Better, but still hard. I think I am fried…

My fingers loudly proclaim that the rest day on Thursday would have been very beneficial. I shut them up by trying the supposed 5.12c, The Payment Plan. It turns out to be pretty easy for the grade, even though it takes me a while to figure out the crux moves, and I use the nylon jug once. After coming down, I look in the guidebook. Oh, it is 5.12b, not .12c. That explains it! (RC database thinks that it is 5.12a, by the way—but that is too harsh!) Jake tries it next, and doesn’t seem to like it. Doesn’t seem to think that it is particularly easy, either… Weird? Up till now every 5.12 that he pointed me to was harder for me than it seemed for him. Are we onto something here?

We hike to Waimea next, and Jake tries Luau. I wimp out… it is beautiful, but don’t have another 5.12 in me today! That attitude lasts only until we hike to Jimmy Cliff, and I see another cool-looking line. Things as they are now Only 3 bolts! -- Yep, it is 5.12a. Maybe I have some energy left, after all… I try it. It doesn’t work out so well. I wow that from now on, if Jake says deadpoint in conjunction with any route name, I cross it off my list. Jake hangs the rope on it for a group of climbers climbing the 5.6 nearby at their request, and earns admiration from the crowd.

Two more routes quickly dispatched, 5.10c, Things As they Are, and 5.9--Things I Never Learned. We eat lunch and contemplate the rest of the day. Do two more unexceptional routes at Jimmy Cliff or walk to Upper Vader and do better-recommended routes? We opt for walking -- I mean, of course, down-climbing the approach trail, and then climbing up on the other trail...

Three Easy Pieces, 5.11a, goes down. Overhanging jughaul=FUN!

We leave the draws on the anchors b/c I’m going to do 5.10d next to it, Squall. That’s the plan, anyway… bad plan! I get owned, big time. “Short climbers will find the opening moves to be well in the 5.11 range”, advices the guidebook. I am willing to bet an arm on the fact that by ‘short climbers’ the author meant someone like Jake, and not someone like me. I know what ’5.11 range’ feels like, and trust me, this is not it. After a few frustrating attempts to grow, I winch up to the ‘starting handhold’ and start from a deadhang. NOW we are into '5.11 range!' Jake laughs at my pissed-off-chipmunk ravings and cleans the route, elegantly reaching for that starting hold. Time to call it a day.

It got really cold on Friday night. I was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and a jacket, sitting by the campfire… An early escape into the cozy tent and a warm sleeping bag was very welcome (this is AUGUST?), but Jake walked around for a long time, waiting for Kate to show up. I vaguely remember a lot of whining about the cold as he was stomping around... then I slept.

Saturday- pancakes!I know that blueeyedclimber and a few others would dearly love not to see the word PANCAKES on RC.com. Ever. But in my defense, this is a completely legitimate use of it. Saturday morning breakfast: scrambled eggs and blueberry pancakes. Delicious! Kate knows how to use a delay button on the camera to document the moment for posterity. Remarkably, we are all looking at the camera, and no one is blinking.

Then it is time to see Rumney in it’s full weekend glory. CROWDS!!!! The parking lot is full. We hike to the Meadows wall, and get on the first open climb—Rose Garden, 5.7, followed quickly by Easy Terms, 5.8. My fingers hurt, but I decide that trying The Payment Plan again makes perfect sense (no it doesn’t! But I just want to see if I can get into the crux without hanging). Jake quickly hikes Repossession and hangs the crux draws on The Payment Plan for me.

I make the crux move on the first try—and grab the draw. Now I am stuck, I can’t clip! F@ck!!!! A random guy on the ground helpfully observes: “The proper climbing command is ‘falling’.“ “O.K., falling!” I yell and I go for a tiny ride. Really tiny! I am not complaining about the close bolt spacing though, not at all.

After a deep breath I go at it again, determined not to grab the draw this time. A funky toe hook (really funky—I’m clipping from a left sidepull crimp, my right foot is hooked about shoulder level—on the left!), and it works! I am really proud, but no one else seems to find it remarkable or worth a big round of applause. Bummer!

One more climb before I have to leave, [Student Loan, 5.11a. As usual, Jake hangs the draws, brushes holds, and points out beta. HIS beta—and I have a suspicion it won’t work for me, again. I try to explore other possibilities from the ground. “What’s that undercling like?” I ask. “Not that great.” “How about that sidepull on the right? That one!” “Never used it!”

Despite knowing better, I still attempt to do it Jake’s way. Doh! I waste too much energy and hang, before finding my own way. (yes, of course, that undercling that “isn’t so great”—combined with that sidepull that Jake never used…) It’s a nice climb! But I just don’t have time to do it again. I have to leave. It will have to be a deposit towards the next visit to Rumney. We say good-byes, hugs all around, and off I go.

This time, I ignore my GPS’s first choice of return route, pick my own, and make it back to PA in under 6 hours, where I horrify everyone with my scraped knees, bloody fingers, and the amazing fact that I had only a river to wash in—for the whole week! Only a climber would understand why I say that it was a perfect vacation.

Sounds like you had a fun trip! Be glad that you were mostly able to avoid the weekend crowds. I fondly remember going there when there were only 5 or 6 established routes...

I can't believe you didn't like Dolt; it is my favorite 5.9 sport climb ever (and yes, it is a 5.9.)

Sorry! I am prepared to try it again, just in case it was my headache that affected my mood.

I am sooo tired of hearing this excuse from all you women. What page in the users manual for men is it located on, anyway?

Can I be excused if I admit that this was-- quite literally- the FIRST time in my life that I ever had a headache? Seriously, until that day I was not quite sure what the headache felt like...

Anyway, are you now hating me b/c I don't get headaches?

edge wrote:

lena_chita wrote:

But it felt so awkward. And I really don't approve of reachy clips on 5.9.

Yes, I do remember it being a bit reachy, and I am 6' with a +3" ape index, so I can concede your frustration there. Still I found it's length and variety of climbing to be just awesome.

BTW, I just booked some plane tix to Ohio for next month to attend a wedding. Maybe you can point me towards some interesting things to do in Cincinnati?

Bueller....

Bueller...

Well, if by "Cincinnati" you mean something within 2.5 hour radius of it, then sure! You just have to go into the other end of the color spectrum... it is more REDDISH, and has the word 'river' in it...

Nice TR! Rumney is my local sport crag- you got in a pretty good tour in a one week visit. The hiking has become second nature by now, just don't charge the uphills. One Size Fits All is one of those obscure grovels that's bag of crap good, yet rarely gets done-even with those enticing starting moves- lot of sissies out there today, I guess.

BTW, I just booked some plane tix to Ohio for next month to attend a wedding. Maybe you can point me towards some interesting things to do in Cincinnati?

Bueller....

Bueller...

Well, if by "Cincinnati" you mean something within 2.5 hour radius of it, then sure! You just have to go into the other end of the color spectrum... it is more REDDISH, and has the word 'river' in it...

I do wish I had time to hit up the Red, although I have to admit it is not one of my favorite climbing locales. Unfortunately we will only be in Cincy from late Thursday to early Monday, with Saturday committed to family festivus activities. I fear I may be stuck playing golf and visiting the zoo...

I do wish I had time to hit up the Red, although I have to admit it is not one of my favorite climbing locales. Unfortunately we will only be in Cincy from late Thursday to early Monday, with Saturday committed to family festivus activities. I fear I may be stuck playing golf and visiting the zoo...

Oh, and bump.

The way I see it, there is nothing at all planned for either Friday or Sunday. Who is making excuses now -- and which manual are they found in?

I do wish I had time to hit up the Red, although I have to admit it is not one of my favorite climbing locales. Unfortunately we will only be in Cincy from late Thursday to early Monday, with Saturday committed to family festivus activities. I fear I may be stuck playing golf and visiting the zoo...

Oh, and bump.

The way I see it, there is nothing at all planned for either Friday or Sunday. Who is making excuses now -- and which manual are they found in?